I Am Beautiful
by VividInfinity
Summary: Songfic of Christina Aguilera's Beautiful, telling the story of Rocket, a bullied newsgirl, and how she rose above. Listening to the song while reading is highly recommended.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the song, Beautiful, by Christina Aguilera. It's an amazing song, and I suggest you listen to it several times while reading the story.**

**I picked this song because it's super inspirational. It's an amazing song, just plain beautiful, and it makes me feel all warm and tingly inside, just like reviews do.**

**Imaginary and/or virtual cookies to anyone who reviews! Luv u all!**

**XXX**

**Don't look at me.**

My name is Rocket. At least, that's what the newsies call me.

**Every day is so wonderful**

I live in Manhattan, with Jack Kelly and Racetrack and Mush and Kid Blink and everyone. It's amazing. It's a free life in New York City, with no one to tell you what to do, and with the whole city to scream out loud. I peddle my papes, and I live and breathe my freedom every day.**  
Then suddenly,**

"Hey, Space Girl!"**  
It's hard to breathe**

Those boys have a lot of names for me. Space Girl. Braindead. Ugly. Topsy-Turvy.**  
Now and then I get insecure**

And when I look in the mirror, I can see why. The fat on my hips and stomach juts out from the waistline of my pants. The fat on my arms jiggles. My face is too round, and there are pimples on my forehead. My hair is unevenly cut and an ugly brown color. And when I cry, it makes my face all read and puffy.**  
From all the pain.**

"Go back West, Junk-Heap!"**  
I'm so ashamed**

I can only hang my head.****

I am beautiful

"Back off!" Racetrack's suddenly there, with his arm wrapped around my shoulders. Les and Boots and Snipeshooter and Tumbler appear with rocks in their hand, ready to protect me, and I can't take it. I bury my face in Racetrack's shoulder.**  
No matter what they say**

I take my face away from Racetrack's shoulder, and I snatch a rock from the ground. In a second I'm throwing myself at them, screaming insults, until the boys are cackling. I'm throwing punches at them, and a lot of them hit their targets. I don't even realize I'm sobbing until Racetrack's arms envelope me again.**  
Words can't bring me down**

I scream. I scream and scream and cry. I can't say anything, because I haven't got anything to say. I just want them to hurt. I want them to hurt so, so bad.**  
I am beautiful**

"Are you okay?" Mush is at my side instantly when Racetrack and the kids manage to haul me back to HQ. "We heard—"

"I'm fine," I break away and run to my room.**  
In every single way**

There's a mirror in my room. It's warped a bit, but the newsies gave it to me for my birthday last year. It's not very big, but it was sweet.**  
Yes words can't bring me down**

Words are what other people think of you. They're what people say about you, what they say to you. And they can hurt. They can latch onto you like hooks, and drag you down to the depths.**  
Oh no**

Yes. And they hurt. So, so badly. **  
So don't you bring me down today**

The next day, I've put it behind me. The sun is covered by clouds, but that's okay. I hate the sun. My hair is up in my cap, so I look like a boy, much to my disgust. I don't want to see those guys, though, and if I look like a boy maybe they won't see me.****

To all your friends you're delirious

"Rocket, you're insane," Race bats the end of my cap. I slap his hand away. "They're jerks, but a cap ain't gon' fool 'em."**  
So consumed**

He doesn't get it.**  
In all your doom, ooh**

He feels sorry, but he's a newsie. To him, he can't interfere, this is my battle. And it is. But I need reinforcements. It's been going on for months now, and my troops are dwindling, my supplies are running low. I need help.**  
Trying hard to fill the emptiness**

"I can try, can't I?" The mask is back on, the fake face of cheerfulness, the one I show to all my customers, the ones paying for headlines and not for my worries.**  
The pieces gone**

"Hey, Topsy-Turvy!"**  
Left the puzzle undone**

I run.**  
Ain't that the way it is**

I run until I reach the lodging house, and I scream into my pillow. It's one thing to fight a losing battle, but it's another, a _huge_ 'other,' to run like a coward. So I do the only thing I can, I go to Medda's.****

You are beautiful

Medda's amazingly beautiful, like always. I've heard what people say about her, but I'm not going to be the one to tell her about it. She'd spazz and I'd feel guilty.**  
No matter what they say**

She comes over, and even the way she moves is graceful. "What's wrong, dove?" She feels my forehead, and I have to bat her hand away again. I tell her everything, right from the start. She knows my secrets, my dreams, my fears. I can trust Medda with them.

"What can I do?" I put my face in my hands, and Medda takes me in her arms. People are doing that a lot lately.**  
Words can't bring you down**

Medda takes me to her dressing room. It's where she takes all her hopeless cases like me. "Rocket," She told me, taking my hands and forcing me to look up. There's a mirror in front of me, and I can see my tear-stained reflection in front of me.

And I hate it.**  
Oh no**

"I want you to tell me what you see,"

"I'm ugly," I breathe. "I'm disgusting. I'm fat and I'm ugly."

"No, dove."**  
You're beautiful**

"You are beautiful. Your eyes are beautiful. Your skin, when you're not crying, is flawless." I start to protest, pointing to my forehead, but Medda plows on. "You are not fat. If you are fat, I want to be fat. Your hair is lovely, your face is beautiful."**  
In every single way**

"You're lying."

"I have never lied in my life," Medda lied. I have to crack a smile, because we both know it's a lie. "There! See? When you smile, you are beautiful."

"The boys don't seem to think so."

"They're just making fun of you, Rocket. It's only words."**  
Yes words can't bring you down**

But words are what people think of you, they're who you are, how you're seen.

But only if those who speak them are telling the truth. I start crying, but not sobbing. The quiet kind of crying, the silent weeping, and I see it.**  
Oh no**

I look at the mirror, and I grin. I grin, like I've never grinned before—a lop-sided grin that makes me grin even wider. My fingers wipe away the silent tears.**  
So don't you bring me down today**

Back in my room, there's only one thing I can do. I look in the mirror, and I scream. My hand snatches the pillow from the bed, and I scream into it. It's the only thing to do, because sometimes there's nothing like a good cry.****

No matter what we do  
(No matter what we do)  
No matter what we say  
(No matter what we say)  
We're the song inside the tune  
(Yeah, oh yeah)  
Full of beautiful mistakes

I laugh. I'm laughing and crying and I fall on the bed, laughing. Racetrack runs in, because I'm sure I sound like I'm having a fit or something.

"What's wrong?" He demands, looking panicked. Boys are crowding behind him. And I can't do anything else but jump up and kiss him full on the mouth. Everyone's yelling like I've gone insane, but I haven't.

It's raining outside, but I love it. I dance, and I sing at the top of my lungs. I'm not even sure what I'm singing, until I listen to the words. The boys are crowding at the edge of my vision, but only Tumbler dares approach and brave the rain and my insanity.****

And everywhere we go  
(And everywhere we go)  
The sun will always shine  
(The sun will always, always, shine)

It isn't the sun I see. It's the moon, peeking out from behind the clouds, and I laugh. I'm soaking, and there's thunder and lightning, but that one glimpse of moonlight is beautiful. I pick up Tumbler and swirl in the rain, laughing.**  
And tomorrow we might awake  
On the other side**

The next day, I sit down. I'd sold my papes for ages, the entire day.

"Hey, Ugly!" A shadow falls across my vision. I freeze.****

We're beautiful

A hand yanks off my hat and my hair tumbles down around my shoulders. I look up, and Mark Johanson's ugly mug is staring down at me;.**  
No matter what they say**

I smirk, and it makes him hesitate. I've never smirked in the face of a good beating.**  
Yes words won't bring us down**

I stand so fast he stumbles backwards and his cronies take a step back.**  
Oh no**

"Look who's talking." I hear myself say, just to hear myself say it. "You're not going to be calling me ugly anymore, _Mark Johanson_."**  
We are beautiful**

"Says who?" Mark sneers. He's gotten his old sneer back, and I almost freeze again. His sneer is so must creepier than any other.**  
In every single way**

Then I remember that girl in the mirror at Medda's, calling herself ugly, and I take a step forward.**  
Yes words can't bring us down**

"_I_ say so, you big bully, and I'm not gonna take it any longer."**  
Oh no**

"Whatcha gonna do about it, then?" Mark sneers. "You didn't do anything yesterday when you ran like a baby." The boys snicker.**  
So don't you bring me down today**

"Babies can't run, fool," Is the only thing I have time to say before my fist smashes into his face."

My name is Rocket, and I'm not gonna put up with any bullying around here.****

Oh, oh  
Don't you bring me down today  
Don't you bring me down, ooh  
Today

Nothing you say is gonna get to me. Got that?


End file.
